Inside out
Photo taken by me
For some of us war is a narration, a story, a photography, a theory. It is an object for our eyes to imagine death through someone else´s experience. For some of us war is an object even though it has occurred close (and even closer) to our homes. Several essays have been written to closing the gap between war itself and the history of war. The one I have in mind is Sontag's "Regarding the Pain of Others" on war photography. Inspired by her, I´ve decided to write about Salvadorean's war from what I've heard. I am not going to narrate the history of war (I am sure wikipedia does a better job) but tell a couple of stories as they happened to found my ears.
War in notes:
During the war, a friend's house was taken by the guerrilla hence she and her family had to seek shelter elsewhere. Right before leaving, my friend's younger sister wrote a note to the guerrilla saying: " Please take good care of my doll". A month later the family returned. The little girl rushed to her room to find a reply note saying: "your doll is a well behaved little girl, but she missed you"
My friend's mother read neighbours the note. As it happens, one of her neighbours whose house was also taken, received a note in response to one she was writing to her ex husband right before leaving. Her note said "You haven't taken full responsiblity over our child's expenses." On the same paper a guerrilla member wrote: "I fully support you. You should definitely sue your ex partner. It is your right".
People in the neighbourhood reported no losses in their homes...
Would you give me a ride?
During the war my neighbour was driving her car to the university. Two guys stopped . They got into the car. One of them took the drivers seat, the other went to the back. She moved to the passenger's seat. "Where are you going" she asked. "Not of your business" they replied. "Would you take me to class?" she asked . "Just if it is on the way" they replied. Then silence... After 5 minutes of driving around they stopped the car, told her they couldn't take her and asked her to step out. They left. Two days later they called her to inform the car had been left at McDonalds (there was just one McDonalds in the 80's). She picked it up. And that is the end of the story.
Good Times
A cab driver was telling me about war times. He said "Those were good times for me" "everyone needed a cab so I had tons of work " "Everyone was so afraid that nobody wanted to drive" Then he smiled.
"We don't want to remember war"
A woman: "Why remember? "Lets simply get over it!"
Another woman: It is not trendy to talk about the war...It is over...BORING
A teenager: I have no idea of what Mozote means (Mozote: The biggest masacre during Salvadorean Civil War)
A politician: It is time for us to forget the past
Another politician: Doing investigation on war crimes won't be of any good for Salvadoreans
Another woman: I won't take that course at the public university. The campus is all dirty. It reminds me of the war. And it scares me.
War is war
and for war
we are still human
so human
Nothing else to say
